


Fortitude

by hannahsoapy



Series: QLFC 2019 Submissions [8]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Insecurity, Luna is a seer, M/M, POV Draco Malfoy, Strength, Tarot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-12 14:48:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19947937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannahsoapy/pseuds/hannahsoapy
Summary: Draco licked his lips, stretched out his trembling hand, and reached through the bars again to touch the card.





	Fortitude

**Author's Note:**

> Submission for QLFC Round 8
> 
> Chaser 1 for the Chudley Cannons
> 
> Prompt: Tarot Card of Strength – Reverse: self-doubt, weakness, insecurity
> 
> Optional Prompts:
> 
> 3\. (song) Here I Go Again – Whitesnake
> 
> 4\. (action) To spill something/knock something over
> 
> 10\. (quote) "Once a future is foretold, that future becomes a living thing, and it will fight very hard to bring itself about." – Legendary, Stephanie Garber.
> 
> Word count: 1901
> 
> A/N: Fortitude is the old name for the Strength card. I thought it was appropriate for the wizarding world :)

Draco carefully moved down the stairs, balancing the trays in his hands and trying to avoid the creaky parts of the steps. It was his turn to take food to the prisoners in the dungeon – a job he hated with a passion.

Hate didn't quite encompass it, though. It was more like dread, or pure terror. Despite the fact that they were in _his_ dungeon, he couldn't bear to look in the eyes of his schoolmates or the man who'd given him his first wand and feel the horrible, vicious resonance of guilt and helplessness.

(He really couldn't care less about the goblin. And yet, he still felt the same when he looked at him.)

Pretty much everything about his life was horrible and vicious right now, he mused, as he misplaced his foot and the step beneath him groaned loudly. He winced. Now they all knew someone was coming down.

The game already up, he didn't bother to tread quietly on the rest of the steps and emerged in the dungeon expecting to see all four of their prisoners alert and watching him.

Instead, he saw only Luna, sitting by the door to the cell and shuffling a deck of rather old-looking tarot cards. He didn't remember her having them before.

"Where did you get those?" Draco asked, aiming for authoritative but ending up just sounding scared and frightened. He set the trays down so that he could reach his wand.

"Would you like a reading?" she asked, avoiding his question. "You look like you need one."

Draco blinked at her. He looked like he needed a reading? What kind of nonsense was that? She sounded like the hags who hid in the dark corners of Knockturn Alley and tried to peddle their half-rate predictions.

"I need a reading?" he asked her flatly, unconvinced.

Luna hummed. "Perhaps it's just a reminder," she said, shuffling the cards again. "I really can't be sure yet."

Draco was more than a little concerned that she had lost her mind, but then again, he could say the same for himself.

"Oh, very well," he sighed, finally, and sat on the floor on the other side of the bars. "It can't hurt."

She smiled at him and spread out the deck on the floor facedown.

"Pick a card."

"Pretty sure this isn't how it's normally done," Draco said, but he reached out and pulled a card toward himself.

"Go ahead, flip it over," Luna said, when his hand hovered over it indecisively. Draco pursed his lips, and then turned the card.

"Interesting," she said. "But not entirely unexpected."

The card depicted a woman stroking the head of a lion, although the image was upside-down, facing Luna. The tarot card set was very well-drawn; despite the obvious age of the card, the images were still moving.

Draco still had no idea what the card meant, however. He'd only taken the one year of Divination at Hogwarts. The class and the professor had seemed too ridiculous to continue in that line of magic, and tarot cards weren't covered until the third year of Divination anyways.

"What's it mean?" he asked, curiously.

"This card is Fortitude," said Luna, reaching out and tracing the frayed gold edge of the card. "But when it is upside down, like this, it means self-doubt, weakness, and insecurity."

"Oh," Draco croaked, and then he quickly coughed to clear the tightness from his throat. "Well. I always thought this was all rubbish anyway."

He went to get up, but she spoke again.

"You could turn it around."

"What?" he asked, feeling confused.

"Things could be so much better, Draco," she said, and her eyes seemed to glow, even in the dim lighting of the dungeon. "Touch the card again. You'll See."

Draco was about to protest, because a prophecy was not something to be taken lightly, and he wasn't sure he wanted this one, but the strange light of Luna's eyes intrigued him.

Her fingers were still stroking the edge of the card.

Draco licked his lips, stretched out his trembling hand, and reached through the bars again to touch the card.

* * *

He was falling, or he felt like he was falling.

There was a scene below him, in a crowded bar, and there he was, ordering a drink, and then suddenly he'd fallen into his own body.

The other version of himself, having just turned away from the bar with the drink, stumbled. He would have fallen over, too, but for someone catching Draco by the arm, although they got some of his drink spilled on themselves for the trouble.

"Draco!" the person cried, apparently unperturbed by half of Draco's drink ending up on his sleeve. "I had half a thought you wouldn't show."

"I had many thoughts about it," Draco heard himself say, and he had the very unsettling revelation that he was in his body, but he wasn't controlling it at all. His other self looked up, finally, and to his surprise, it was Potter.

"Well I'm glad you're here," Potter was saying. "I, um, haven't seen much of you since, um, since the trial."

"Been a bit busy," Draco said, "but I wouldn't miss your birthday, Harry, even if you insist on holding it in _this_ establishment."

He looked around with a sneer to emphasize his point. It was a Muggle bar, clearly, judging by the people, and also by the band, which was playing some sort of screeching tune. Potter clearly had very poor taste, not that Draco was surprised.

Also, what in the name of Slytherin was he doing, calling Potter by his first name? Well, now that he thought about it, Potter had called him by his name, too. Were they… friends?

They must be, because Potter was laughing at his snide comment about the bar, instead of getting offended like he usually would, and Draco was – he was smiling back at him.

"Well, come on then. We're all seated over here," Potter said, tugging on his sleeve, and Draco obediently followed.

He was led to a table that was over half full of Weasleys. Luna, Longbottom, and Granger appeared to be the only ones without red hair.

"Draco!" several of them cried, raising their glasses to him as he approached with Potter. Draco hardly registered that his glass was raised in response, because at that moment Potter slid his hand down, and intertwined their fingers.

It was probably for the best that he wasn't in control of his body at the moment, because he definitely would have swooned. He'd fancied Potter for a very long time – probably since he first saw those dratted green eyes in Madam Malkins – but he'd bungled their first meeting, and their second on the train, and eventually, it was just easier to fall into the expected Gryffindor-Slytherin rivalry than muster up the courage to act differently.

Obviously he'd found it somewhere, though, Draco thought, happily focusing on the feel of Potter's hand in his, and completely ignoring whatever the rest of the party was discussing around him.

A lull in the conversation carried the singer's voice from the band across the room to Draco. He wasn't really paying attention until Potter started humming along.

" _I don't know where I'm going, but I sure know where I've been, hanging on the promises and songs of yesterday, and I've made up my mind, I ain't wastin no more time…"_

How surprisingly quaint, Draco thought, mulling the lyrics over as Granger and Weaselette's voices picked up again, this time nagging Potter about when he'd finally find himself a flat. This better version of himself he was trapped in, however, must have taken it as encouragement, because he leaned over to Potter and murmured in his ear, "I need to talk to you."

Potter looked up at him with his stupidly gorgeous green eyes for a few long seconds.

"If you're breaking up with me, could you not do it on my birthday?" Potter said, breaking the enchantment.

"What? No! Why would you think that?" Draco was just as horrified as his other self. Did Potter not know how long-standing his crush was? If he ever really did get Potter, he'd never let him go.

"You've made excuses for weeks," Potter said quietly, "and I know you've been with your mum, but I thought maybe – maybe you regretted switching sides, and rescuing us, and… and me."

Hold up now, Draco thought. He'd done what? Switched sides? Rescued Potter and Company? He couldn't deny that even though he wore the Dark Mark on his arm, he'd never really been invested in the Dark Lord's agenda, but he'd never thought he could switch sides. But… if this was what it got him...

"Potter, you are the biggest idiot I have ever had the privilege of being in love with," his other self growled. "I'd do every single bit of that again, and I don't want to break up with you. I want you to _move in with me_."

"Oh," Potter managed, weakly.

"Yes, oh," Draco said, rolling his eyes. "So, what'll it be? Because I've spent the last few weeks 'making excuses' so that I could put the Manor in a livable condition."

"You – really?"

Draco's other self sighed. "It's a simple yes or no, Potter. Do you want to live with – mmph."

Potter's response was to lean forward, grab him by his starched collar, and kiss him thoroughly.

Draco wasn't complaining at all, until he felt a tugging sensation, and he was falling out of his body again.

* * *

Draco came back to his real self with a gasp. His fingers and Luna's were still touching the card, but he noticed as he pulled his hand away that the card had turned. The woman stroking the lion's head looked up at him and winked.

"What was that?" Draco asked, looking back up at Luna. "I mean, that was – it was – "

"Exactly what you needed to See - what _could_ happen," Luna said calmly. "You get to decide what to do with it."

Draco could hear his heart, beating low in his ears. The air grew heavier around him as he stared back into Luna's fathomless gaze.

"Draco!" a voice called from above. "Draco, you're needed in the parlor! Now!"

Draco broke from Luna's eyes. "I've got to go," he said, and she smiled softly, but said nothing. He stood, and hesitated, but he didn't need to do much soul-searching.

" _Alohomora_ ," he said, abruptly pointing his wand at the lock on the door. It clicked open loudly.

"Wake them up," he told Luna, nodding at the others in the cell with her. "I'll be back. With your wands."

He turned and ran back up the stairs, heedless of the creaking steps, and Luna watched him go with a smile.

A rustling came from the back of the cell, and she turned to see the other three watching her. They had never actually been sleeping.

"Remarkable, Miss Lovegood," Ollivander said, "really, quite remarkable."

Griphook merely grunted in agreement.

"How'd you do it?" Dean asked.

"I hardly did anything," Luna said. "Once a future is foretold, that future becomes a living thing, and it will fight very hard to bring itself about. I don't even know what the card showed him."

She paused, briefly, and then whispered softly to herself, "It must have been something he desired very much."


End file.
